


Ghost Stories

by Xparrot



Category: GetBackers
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-31
Updated: 2003-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-10 20:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xparrot/pseuds/Xparrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All manner of restless spirits are abroad on Halloween...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost Stories

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the GetBackers Halloween Special.

In the three months since he and Amano Ginji had become retrieval agents, Ban had made a second occupation of studying his new partner. If they were to work effectively together he had to understand how Ginji operated, what he could and couldn't do. And Ginji was so ostensibly obvious, one wouldn't think it that difficult a job. But even after a quarter of a year of steady observation, more often than not, the guy still could surprise him. Like now.

He wasn't the only one, which Ban took some comfort in; Paul's eyebrows had climbed all the way up under his kerchief as he watched Ginji with the gaggle—flock? swarm?—of kids. Which were Paul's fault anyway. Even if Ban had been the one to mention Halloween, when the cafe owner had been fielding suggestions of increasing the HonkyTonk's customer base. Holiday themes were as good a way as any to attract people, and Halloween, being lesser known, was appealing for its uniqueness.

And it was impressive, how Paul had altered the HonkyTonk's usual bright ambience with orange and black light bulbs, a few cardboard ghosts and fake cobwebs. Though Ban thought the plastic spiders were a little much. But much of the clientele attracted to the display had proved younger than Paul had anticipated, and more rambunctious. Especially when they learned there was no free candy to be had.

Sometimes he wondered if Paul actually knew anything about running his business. Sure, the man made great pizza and better coffee, but it was evident this wasn't his original line of work. Ban had been inclined to leave before nightfall and the trouble started, but Ginji had been fascinated by the decorations and eager to see cosplayers. Besides, should this endeavor prove a success, Paul might be inclined to be more generous about their tab. Of course Ban planned to pay that off as soon as they struck a really profitable job, but a little insurance until the GetBackers had made their reputation couldn't hurt.

The first couple kids should have clued him in; he should have dragged Ginji out the door as soon as darkness fell, but he hadn't, and next thing he knew a couple dozen samurai and ghosts and helmeted heroes in miniature had invaded the HonkyTonk, screaming and cackling and blocking the exit. Where the little beasts' parents were was anyone's guess. Where they had gotten the toilet paper and eggs was also a mystery, but they were definitely serious about using them if candy were not forthcoming. Paul had looked about ready to tear out his hair, and Ban had been considering judicious application of the jagan to give him and Ginji a chance to bolt for the door.

But before he could reach for his glasses, his partner had stepped forward—empty-handed, candyless, and without fear. Ban hadn't taken Ginji for one to zap a bunch of kids, but these creatures could use a little electrotherapy...

Instead, Ginji had asked, brightly, "Who wants to hear a ghost story?"

And next thing they knew, all the mini-monsters were sitting in a circle on the cafe's floor, listening with rapt attention.

It wasn't just that Ginji knew ghost stories. It was that his crazily cheerful partner with the seeming attention span of a gerbil could weave such convoluted, suspenseful, bloody yarns, in that intensely dramatic whisper that made all the kids hold their breath expectantly, and even Ban found himself leaning forward to catch the hushed words.

Of course he shouldn't be surprised. Anyone who grew up in the Infinite Castle had more than a casual acquaintance with all kinds of fear. But it was damn easy to forget that, sometimes—easy to forget that his new partner was also the Raitei he had fought only a few months ago. He knew that Ginji would rather he didn't remember it, would rather forget it himself. Which wouldn't solve anything in the long run, but for now at least Ban was content to let him, while he was still getting to know the Amano Ginji that his partner preferred to be.

And apparently that Amano Ginji was a consummate teller of spine-tingling horror. And good with kids. Neither of which being the usual talents of a retrieval agent, but in their line of work no skill was a disadvantage, and Ban listened with concealed fascination, casually smoking a cigarette while entering this new data into his mental file on his partner. And tried not to shudder when Ginji, with a bloodthirsty grin, revealed the true nature of the woman the hapless travelers of his tale had run across.

The kids shrieked in gleeful fright, Ban tried to pretend his sharp inhalation was a result of coughing on his cigarette's smoke, and Paul—was busy pouring drinks and serving sandwiches, to the crowd of taller spooks and angels which had trickled in over the past hour. A local masquerade must have just gotten out, or else a Halloween party had started refusing guests, because there were now as many costumed adults as children, and they were looking for the atmosphere and refreshments more than the false promise of candy. Paul looked hassled—man needed a waitress or two—but pleasantly surprised.

Ginji, noticing the crowd, stood up from the floor. His child minions eagerly bounced up with him, and Ginji said, "It's getting late, huh? How about I walk you guys home?"

"Ginji," Ban said, "we're not a babysitting service,"--and especially not a free one.

"But they only live a few blocks away, Ban-chan," Ginji said. "And I'm getting them back to their homes, right?"

"That's a job for transporters, not retrievers," Ban grumbled, but was getting up to follow them when Ginji said, "Um, Ban-chan, Master's waving at you..?"

Which he was, with the desperation of a drowning man. By the time Ban had taken the pizza out of the oven a second before it burned, and explained to Paul—between sprinkling cheese over nachos and taking a few orders—that he was no more a waiter than he was a transporter, Ginji and his midget posse were long gone.

The next hour was a busy blur, punctuated by more pizza, endless coffee refills, and the pair of women in tight scarlet dresses who thought him cute enough to poke in interesting places—he thought it was an accident the first two times, as there were enough people to make quarters tight, but the third time made it clear. Their dresses were quite tight and the little red devil horns accentuated their alcoholic blushes, but by then Ban was preoccupied with thoughts of what he was going to do to his partner, once Ginji got back. Clearly he was taking the long way home for a reason. Not nearly as oblivious as he could make out to be, his partner.

Things slowed down in another hour, as the customers departed for a midnight extravaganza, those not invited being pulled along by those who were. But Ginji still had yet to return, no sign of him even when Ban followed the last stragglers outside and looked up and down the dark streets. The night was surreal with costumed beings walking among regular pedestrians, all heads ducked against the frigid breeze.

"Why don't you go find your partner?" Paul said behind him.

Ban shrugged. "That damn electric eel can take care of himself. It's not like there's actual ghosts out tonight." And there was little enough else that could bother the former Emperor of the Volts.

"Well, I'm closing for the night. Happy Halloween. Here," and Paul tossed something over.

Ban caught the bag of candy corn automatically. "So you were holding out on those kids after all."

"That's the only bag I could get, it was all sold out. Didn't want the children fighting over it. Thanks for the help, Ban," and Paul had shut the cafe doors and locked them before Ban could demand better recompense than a little colored sugar.

He would have eaten the bag himself to spite Ginji, but not caring for candy that sweet, he just stuffed it in his pocket as he headed to the alley where he had parked the Ladybug. Hopefully no traffic cops had come across it in the last few hours.

No ticket on the windshield, to his relief, but before he could get out his keys, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled—no sound, but he was unmistakably being watched. Turning to look deeper in the shadows, he saw a figure there that he had missed before. Not Ginji, which was his first thought—a little taller, a little slimmer than his partner. His face was obscure, and in his black long coat he wasn't much more than a dark shape, blending with the surrounding shadows.

For a split second, in the darkness of the alley, Ban thought he might be looking at a ghost after all. Then common sense reasserted itself. "Got a problem, buddy?"

"You're Midou Ban."

"Who's asking?" Ban demanded, though it hadn't been spoken like a question.

"You're Amano Ginji's new partner."

Again, it wasn't a question. "We're the GetBackers," Ban said, cautiously. "You got a job?" Holidays brought out the freaks and weirdos, but some crazies have money.

But the man said, lightly, "No job. I was just wondering if Ginji were around." He took a step forward, and Ban tensed, because even that simple motion was too smooth, too swift. No ordinary freak, this. He was hardly more than a shadow, but a threatening shadow. And his eyes were invisible, no way to tell if he were looking to Ban's or not.

He kept his voice just as light. "You a friend of Ginji's?"

"You could say that." A passing car's headlights flashed down the alley, but the guy's face remained in shadow, and Ban knew that was no accident. He thought he might have seen a gleam of silver hair, but the voice was not an old man's.

"You're from Mugenjou," Ban challenged.

The man nodded. "I was."

"What do you want with Ginji?"

Wind might have scattered leaves over the sidewalk across the street. Or perhaps it was a soft sigh. "To talk with him."

"So you're stalking him at midnight."

"I don't have much choice. It would be risking too much to approach him openly. But with the crowds out tonight, I hoped not to be noticed."

He didn't bother asking who might be noticing. Ban had heard the stories of Mugenjou, all those people who were said not to have a choice about leaving. But if he had taken some risk, if he knew Ginji, called himself a friend..."You're Volts, aren't you."

The man didn't answer. "Listen," Ban said, low and fierce. "He's not your emperor anymore. He's not going back there just because you want him back. So forget about this and beat it."

"It's not that simple. Raitei can't just walk out of Mugenjou."

"Raitei didn't. Amano Ginji did."

"And now he's a GetBacker."

"We. We're the GetBackers. Plural." Ginji hadn't known enough English to understand that, until Ban had explained the 's' to him. And Ginji might not be that great with languages, but Ban didn't think he had forgotten since then.

This man only nodded, barely visible in the shadows. "You can't protect him, however."

"Protect him?" He took out a cigarette and his lighter, flicked it to life, but the man's head was angled just enough that his face wasn't illuminated by the flame. Shrugging, Ban lit up, returned the lighter to his pocket. "I don't need to protect Ginji. If you know Raitei, you know how strong he is. If I take you out, it's just to save him a hassle. Ginji's not going anywhere he doesn't want to go."

"I'm not here to bring him back to Mugenjou." He didn't sound defensive. Ban narrowed his eyes, tried again to make out the man's face. His tone was too calm to tell anything from it. "But what will you do, if he decides himself to go back there?"

A chance gust blew through the alley, raised gooseflesh on his bare arms and made the cigarette's end flare orange. That was the question, of course. Because as much as Ban would like to think, no way, no how would Ginji do that to himself, not with as much on the line as there was...Ginji could surprise him. And the Infinite Castle had been his home for nearly all his life, and he had been its sovereign, and if he understood how strong he truly was...

Ginji had only been outside for three months. Sometimes he didn't seem to know as much as even a little kid about what the real world was like, and sometimes he knew more than any adult should. He had nightmares more nights than he didn't, would jerk awake flushed with crackling energy. He enjoyed the jobs they took, earnestly and cheerfully accepting the requests of any client who approached them, completely forgetting about fees in his eagerness to help.

There were moments when his positive excitement fell away, like a mask accidentally dropped, and the face behind it still and remote, but it happened less every day. And Ban was beginning to believe that the emperor's cold regard was the actual mask, because the longer he looked into that warm light, the more true it seemed to him.

What would he do, if Ginji did decide to return, take that light and hide it back in Mugenjou's darkness? How could that even matter to him? They had only been partners for three months. He wasn't yet used to the close quarters in the car, couldn't sleep nights for Ginji's nightmares, or just his snoring. Was already tired of explaining to clients that whatever the blond idiot had told them, they weren't a charity. Had had to forgo how many smokes, because what would buy food and cigarettes for one guy would buy only food for two.

Couldn't remember how he had managed jobs alone, without backup or an electric trump card. Didn't know how he'd ever dealt with clients, without his partner's completely convincing charm. And Paul had never allowed him a tab before.

Only three months, but already there was only one answer to that question. "Go with him, of course."

"It's a dangerous place, Mugenjou." As if he were some wet-behind-the-ears toddler who needed to be instructed in the obvious. How old was this bastard, really? Too young to be telling him things like this, anyway. "Even more for the Raitei."

"He wouldn't go back as Raitei," Ban said. "He'd go back as one of the Getbackers. And that junkyard's no match for us."

The man's chuckle was low, and strangely sincere. Strange in that it reminded him of Ginji's, somehow, not affected, difficult to take offense at. A ghost's laugh would be hollow, but this one was warm and human. "You really are as arrogant as they say."

"Want me to prove it?" Ban blew smoke toward him, a phantom plume hardly more substantial than the man in his shadows, dropped the butt and ground it under his heel. "I took on your emperor, I can take on one of his four kings."

But the man just laughed again. For a brief moment his head tipped toward the light, and Ban thought he saw a glitter of gold, before the gloom cloaked his eyes again. "I'm not one of the kings. I was never any part of the Volts."

"If you're not one of the Kings, who the hell are you?"

"Just an old ghost...it is the night for them, isn't it? But maybe one he doesn't need to remember anyway."

"Then why bother appearing here at all?"

"Even ghosts can be afraid," the man said quietly. "But I think I have no reason to be. When you see Ginji...you don't need to mention me to him."

"Why would I? I don't even have a name to give him," Ban said.

But when he looked to the shadows, the man was gone without a trace, not so much as a single footstep sounding on the pavement, as if the wind had carried him away with the crumpled newspapers.

He knew too much not to believe in ghosts, but that had been no spirit. But someone who moved so silently was dangerous. And the draft through the alley was cold against his skin. Ban quickly climbed into the Subaru, started the engine and pulled into the street. It was almost midnight by the red digits of the bank clock on the corner, near time for all the restless spirits to walk abroad, the moment when curses fell and spells were broken. The streets were empty, other cars only points of light moving through the night.

Ban didn't stop to consider where he was going, just drove, speeding down the city blocks. Streetlights streaked past his window like shooting stars, and all the old stories whispered in his head, the fairy tales when the prince or maiden vanishes upon the clock's final stroke, the horror fables when the ghosts return to claim their victims. His arm ached with the hiss of scales scraping under his skin, that coiled strength, woken by that stranger's threat, pounding in his blood louder than it had in three months.

Shortly Mugenjou came into view, its giant heights blocking the pale yellow moon. He parked under the bridge and ran up the pedestrian walkway.

Ginji was there, leaning on the railing, looking up at the asymmetrical silhouette of the Infinite Castle. Ban stopped at the top of the stairs, studied his partner's profile, feeling unaccountably out of breath, as if he had sprinted all the way here, chasing something, or being chased. In the glimmer of the streetlights below and the skyscrapers above, Ginji's hair shone gold, and his mouth was set in a straight still line.

Then he turned, looked to Ban, and the line cracked, broke into a smile, and that old ghost vanished as if it were no more real than any story. "Ban-chan!"

"Where have you been, idiot?" Ban demanded, coming over to the railing. "It's been hours. Couldn't have taken you that long to chaperone those brats."

"Well, it took a little while, they were from a couple different neighborhoods. And then on the way back..." He trailed off. "I didn't even think of it until I was here. This is the closest...the closest I've been to it. Since I left." For a moment he looked about to say something else, but instead he only closed his mouth, leaned on the railing again, looking down at the street.

He waited, but Ginji remained mute. Finally, irritated with the silence, Ban said, "You were good with those kids. Where'd you learn to tell stories like that?" Almost immediately he realized how stupid a question that was, shook his head and changed it, "I mean, how do you know those stories? From books or you make them up or what?"

"Ah, I don't know." Ginji shrugged. "Some bits I made up, some I've heard other people tell. I just mix stuff together. I know people better at it, but kids like all kinds of stories. Though they don't like the scary ones unless they're not really scared, so I haven't told many of those before, not in..." He broke off. "Sorry, Ban-chan."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I know you don't like me talking about it...that place."

"Huh?" Ban frowned. "What gave you that idea?"

"You never mention it. You don't ask me any questions about Mugenjou, about living there."

"I don't hear you asking me about my past."

"That's because you don't want me to, Ban-chan," Ginji said, matter-of-factly. "You don't like talking about it or thinking about it."

Ban could never recall saying anything of the sort. Not that it wasn't true, but... "I didn't think you'd want to think about what it was like, in there."

"Some of it I don't. A lot of it." Ginji raised his head, looked again to the irregular reaches of those half-made buildings. "But some of it was good."

"Do you miss it?" His voice sounded weird, harsh, like his breath had that same frost-nipped edge as the wind.

"Sometimes." He looked so young, his eyes like a child's, but the wistfulness in his voice was ageless. "I had a lot of friends, there. And even though so many terrible things happened...sometimes, the good things were even better." Ginji shook his head. "You told me, Ban-chan, just a little after I left, you said I shouldn't forget any of it. Even the painful things. And you were right, of course, I was just thinking. I have to remember everything, to make sure I don't forget any of the ghosts."

Ban started. "The ghosts?"

"There were so many people there, who are gone now, that no one out here even knows they lived at all. If I'm the only one who does—don't I have to remember them, Ban-chan? My memories...it's the only part of them that ever got to leave Mugenjou." He laughed, very soft and short, almost the same laugh as the man in the alley. "Unless they come out tonight. You think they might?"

"Maybe..."

"I wonder it they're angry with me, for leaving. A lot of people are."

"Some of them might be," Ban said. "But some of them understand."

"I hope so." Ginji stuck his hands in his pockets—he must be cold, in his t-shirt and shorts. "I really enjoyed it tonight, telling those kids those stories. In Mugenjou no one wanted to hear scary stories. No one wanted to be scared. But it's fun to pretend to be, when you know nothing can really hurt you."

"If you say so."

"When we walked back, they were all teasing each other. Saying, 'you were more scared', 'no, you were!' It made them feel brave. And then a cat ran out in front of us and they all screamed, but they were laughing, too. And I was thinking, it's good that they know what it's like to be frightened, so if something really scary happens to them, they'll understand what it feels like. But I was also thinking that it's good they were laughing. That it isn't always something terrible, to be afraid."

"No," Ban said. "It isn't."

And Ginji was still looking at the looming mountain of Mugenjou. Unafraid, even knowing what was there.

"Ginji..." Ban started to continue, found he had to clear his throat first. At least it got Ginji to look at him instead of the damn castle. "If you want to talk about it, about being in there. Or whatever you want to talk about. I don't mind." The cool metal of the railing burned a bit, when he wrapped his hand around it. "I'm not going to ask questions and make you, but if you ever feel like telling the other ghost stories, the real ones—I'll hear them. It doesn't have to be Halloween. I'm here anyway."

"Ban-chan." His smile was brighter than the moon after the clouds had been blown aside. "Thank you."

"Yeah, sure." He looked away. Not like it deserved that big a deal to be made of it. "We're partners, right?"

Unprepared for an attack, Ban didn't quite follow what happened next, but suddenly Ginji moved, fast as the lightning of his namesake, and his arms wrapped around Ban, pinning his arms to his side and squeezing tight enough that his ribs creaked. Then, before the serpent could uncoil from its startled freeze, Ginji released him from the impromptu embrace.

Ban blinked, glowered at his partner. "What was that?"

Ginji ducked his head. "Nothing."

Even with his head down, Ban could hear the smile in his voice. He shook his head. "Thought you were an electric eel, not a bear." Reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes, his fingers encountered something else instead. He pulled out the plastic bag, held it up to the light.

"Where'd you get that, Ban-chan?"

Ban looked from the bag of candy corn to his partner's eyes, now as wide and covetous as any kid's. He couldn't help but smirk a bit. "Master gave it to me. For helping out. I could share, but..."

"Ah." Ginji cocked his head in thought for a moment, then said, carefully, "Treat or trick?"

"Hmm...that's not quite it..." Ban quickly yanked the bag away before Ginji could grab it.

"Ban-chan, don't be mean!"

"Mean? I was the one who had to—hey!" Ginji had snaked his arm behind Ban's back to snatch the candy. Quickly Ban tossed it aside before Ginji could get hold of it, realized a split second later that he had accidentally thrown it off the bridge. Then his partner had lunged over the railing after the bag, grabbing the handrail only after he had caught it to vault back over to the right side of the walkway.

As soon as both his sneakers were safe on the pavement again, Ban cuffed the back of his head. "It's just candy, you idiot!"

"I know!" Ginji grinned and ripped into his prize.

Ban shook his head, went for his cigarettes again. "Don't eat it all at once, you'll get a stomachache." He had located the pack and was feeling for his lighter when he realized his partner was regarding him, thoughtfully, as he nibbled on a single candy corn. "What?"

Ginji swallowed the last of the sugar. "I'm glad..."

Ban rolled his eyes. "You are such a kid."

"Not the candy." And those brown eyes on him weren't a brat's at all. "When you first came up here, you looked afraid, somehow. Like you'd...seen a ghost. Not like the kids, not fun-scared. I haven't...I don't like it when you look like that, Ban-chan." He smiled. "But you don't now."

"Scared? I wasn't scared. I was just annoyed, having to come find you. And it's cold tonight."

"Oh."

"Besides, I wouldn't be scared of some damn ghost. Only to be expected, it's Halloween."

"Sorry, Ban-chan."

"And anyway," he muttered, glancing down at the street, "as long as we're the GetBackers, what's there to be afraid of?"

"Ban-chan?"

For a moment he thought he had glimpsed someone on the sidewalk beneath them, a black and silver apparition. But when he looked he saw no one. And Ginji was watching him, not the street below.

"Never mind," Ban said. "It's freezing. Let's get back to the car." He turned his back on Mugenjou and started down the walkway, not looking back. But listening to Ginji, and he smiled, only a little bit surprised to hear no hesitation, no fear in his partner's steps, in sure cadence with his own, walking away from all those ghosts behind him.

 


End file.
